After Shrike
by Mesatweenie
Summary: This is a short piece of work that takes place after the end of A Darkling Plain (Philip Reeve), in which the Stalker Shrike has a talk with a fictional character not originally from the Mortal Engines Quartet, whom claims to come from before the Sixty Minute War, despite his youthful and healthy appearance. There is no point to this short piece of work.


_Short Mortal Engines Quartet Fanfiction – Shrike and Mr Eden_

Shrike remained on the hilltop of the small, grassy summit, staring out over the new, static village gleaming in the evening summer sun as it set over this part of the world, that where he had awoken to after his sleep. The breeze whistled quietly threw the blades of grass that brushed finely against his metal feet. The grass of the new world felt just as soft and fresh and light as it had done all those years ago, from the days before the great Traction City of London to the times of Tom and Hester. From the colour of the sky to the gentle hush of the breeze, the world seemed so much the same as it had always done. And the people seemed the same, too. However, there lives had changed, and too the technology they now had, but the people and their personalities seemed to transcend lifetimes.

How different the world was now, but similar at the same time. He had not noticed this before, and did not know how he had not in the past. He had lived for so long, since the days before London was put on tracks, when he fought as a Stalker of war, to the days that he killed the Stalker Fang and travelled with Hester, and to now after his long hibernation. Once again, all the people of the past whom he had ever known were dead. And this time, he cared.

A small van, flying through the sky, soared past and down towards the village, carrying milk and eggs from the farm. Shrike listened to the gentle hum as it passed, and then, his Stalker senses picked up another sound, as well as a smell. His green Stalker eyes twitched and he turned around to face down the hill. He could feel the heat of the approaching man from here. His senses seemed to recognise it all, and his sight confirmed it.

The man walked up the steep hill towards him, panting slightly and looking up at him. "Hello, Shrike," he said, with a nostalgic and strangely melancholy smile. "It's been a while." Shrike recognised the man immediately, surprised to see the young man still alive. "ETERNAL EDEN," said Shrike. There was something different about the man now, already visible, hanging over him like a dark cloud. The man Shrike remembered had been a strong, confident and dangerous individual; a very powerful man. But as he stood there now, it seemed that this man was almost someone else entirely, and all that he once was had gone.

They stood side-by-side, looking out over the quiet little village. The sun dropped further towards the ground and inked the clouds a many warm, pinky-reds, floating weightlessly through the golden sky. The breeze had nearly all but diminished into stillness, and insects sang their chirpy songs as they hopped through the long tufts of grass. Ducks flew passed in a vee shape above, away into the growing dusk. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Mr Eden said.

Shrike was ready to say no and that he was not capable of such feelings; but he was, and he couldn't disagree. Shrike knew how human he had become, once again. "IT IS," he said at last. And again, silence fell between them.

"We're the same, Shrike," Mr Eden said. "We've always been there."

"WE ARE NOT ALIKE," the metal man replied.

Mr Eden took a deep breath. "I'm old, Shrike," he said. "Very old."

"PERHAPS WE ARE SIMILAR IN AGES, THEN," the Stalker admitted.

"I'm much older than you, Shrike. But even so, we remember so much."

Shrike turned his glowing green eyes towards him. Mr Eden gave off a sadness, almost present like a tremble in his voice. "I REMEMBER YOU," Shrike began, "AS A GHOST WHOM LINGERS IN MY PAST."

"I've been so many things, Shrike," Mr Eden said. "I've been bad, and I've been good. I've been a farmer to a general, and a villain to a tramp. I've been just about everything under the sun. But I haven't yet been a ghost. My past is far greater than yours, my old friend."

Shrike paused. "I NEVER USED TO BELIEVE THAT YOU WERE OLDER THAN I."

"I know, I remember," Mr Eden replied. "I was born before the Sixty Minute War, and I could tell you about forty thousand years' worth of human history before that. I remember everything. I remember when you were born, Shrike – the first time, I mean. I remember when you were Kit Solent and when your children were born. I remember Fever Crumb and how you died trying to protect her. I remember you from all the great Nomad battles of the North you fought in as the new Stalker Shrike. I remember your doll collection, years later. I remember, after I secretly saved Hester Shaw from Valentine's men, how you adored her like no Stalker should. I remember it all, Shrike; yes, all of it. I remember Fever, and Tom and Hester, their daughter Wren. I remember how they all died, and how Wren died, and how her children died and how her children's children died. I remember waiting for you to wake up over these past two thousand years, visiting your hibernating self every year to check.

"I've seen so many things, so many different eras and ages. I was there when the American Empire destroyed the world, and survived when life struggled to live for the hundreds of years that followed. I remember the birth and death of the Traction Era. I remember when I planted the first tree of that great forest that grew around you until now." He looked up at the sky, almost tearing, and then looked at Shrike. "And at least half of that, you remember, too, Shrike. We are the same, and we've always been there – you and I."

"PERHAPS," the Stalker said. He did remember a lot of it, but not nearly so much as Mr Eden. How long had Mr Eden been dying for Shrike to wake just so he could have this conversation? How long can a man go on like that? Forever?

"And you'll go on for longer still," Mr Eden carried on, interrupting Shrike's thoughts. "You'll go on and keep living, Shrike. But for me," he said, "well – I've decided not to stay, not any more." Shrike looked over to him in a sort of shocked Stalker way. Mr Eden looked to him, and he saw his eyes. They were healthy and young, but they looked tired, so very, very tired. It was not a physical thing to behold, but rather he could tell from them as if the eyes really were the gateway to the soul. If so, Mr Eden's soul must have been very, very tired, perhaps too tired to keep going.

"I can't keep up, any more, Shrike," he said. "My body doesn't age, but my soul does. My body will last forever if I let it, but I can feel the light in my mind growing dim. I'm fading away, Shrike. Pretty soon, I'll just be a body and nothing more. When they created me, they succeeded in creating the immortal body but not the eternal mind. I don't know if Project Eternal Eden was a resounding success, any more."

"THEN WHAT WILL YOU DO?" asked Shrike.

"I'm going to go away," Mr Eden replied. "And I'm not going to be coming back." He turned to Shrike and offered his hand. "It's too bad we were never closer, old friend."

Shrike looked confused behind his metal mask. He couldn't ever remember a time when someone has ever offered to shake his big, steel hands. As he handed him his great, grey club, he realised that he didn't want the man to go. They had so much memory that they shared, about Hester, about his days as a man and about his own children. Without him, those memories and questions would be gone as well. This man's end would also be half the end of Shrike.

"Goodbye, Mr Solent," Mr Eden said, letting go of his hand. "You will not see me again." The man turned around and began walking away back down the hill, following his long shadow away from the sun and towards the moon. The Stalker Shrike stood motionless at the top watching him go, feeling unable to stop him. He could only muster the one short sentence: "GOODBYE, MR EDEN," he said. "AND GOODBYE MR SHRIKE."


End file.
